(image by Egle Vismantaite)
Eu sou Frida.
O destino me prendeu à cama
para que não pudesse voar.
Primeiro
desmontou-me
como um rádio quebrado.
Os pedaços perdidos
tornaram-me
uma canção impossível.
Eu, que sou feita de
carne e desejos,
fui mergulhada em clorofórmio,
embalsamada
e colocada num sarcófago
por um mês.
A morte dançou em torno
de mim tantas vezes
sem explicar porque fui poupada.
I am Frida.
Destiny nailed me to bed
so I could not fly.
First
it dismantled me
like a broken radio
lost pieces
made me into an
impossible song.
I, who am made of
flesh and wishes,
have been chloroformed
embalmed
and put in a sarcophagus
for a month.
Death danced around me
so many nights, I wish he
explained why I was saved.
As soon as I saw your picture - I thought of my favourite Frida Kahlo painting. Your words are a wonderful abstraction of her movement - especially the idea of dismantling, since so many portraits seemed to be about finding out who she was.
ReplyDeleteMagnificent poetry.
Bela poesia.
ReplyDelete